


Caitmas

by BillieLiar



Series: The Red Death [2]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Drabble, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28330614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieLiar/pseuds/BillieLiar
Summary: Cait wanders into a blizzard to help some folks out, Dorn thinks she's a fool as usual.
Relationships: Charname/Dorn Il-Khan
Series: The Red Death [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061927
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

The blizzard started about an hour before the first of the creatures began shambling into the camp. Dorn muttered an only partially earnest complaint at their arrival, and fretfully watched the horizon for the rest of the group. Earlier that afternoon they’d come across a pair of young goblins who had sobbed and grabbed at Cait’s leggings as they’d begged in broken bursts of garbled common for assistance. A fire, they had eventually made clear, had spread through their clan’s settlement, and their parents had sent them for help but they’d gotten lost and didn’t know how far they’d come. Dorn had protested Cait’s immediate willingness to help the displaced urchins, but she had just ignored him and gone about her business as was her usual custom. She had left Neera-- the chattering wild mage who seemed to have little to no respect for the concept of comfortable silence-- in Dorn’s begrudging care.

“Stop complaining and make a camp, I’ll probably send the kids’ families this way so expect company.” She’d given him _that_ look as she’d issued the unusually direct order, the one that meant there was no use in his trying to reason with her no matter how unrelated this new task was from their current one.

“You have no idea where you’re heading other than the broken directions conveyed by the words of children.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically and began unloading her heavier and less necessary gear so she’d be lighter on her feet. “It won’t be hard to find in these conditions, I’ll probably just follow that smoke.”

She pointed emphatically over her shoulder at the pillar of black-grey smoke which streaked across the clear blue sky due west of them. Dorn grumbled in irritation, and opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Cait reached up and clapped her hand onto his steel-clad shoulder in a mocking display of camaraderie.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy, we all face the wrong way sometimes. Keep an eye on Neera and don’t let her do any magic, would ya?”

So she’d left him with the pink haired, more irritating half-elf and trekked off into the woods without so much as a farewell, leaving the two exhausted younglings napping in the pair’s awkward care. After the first two hours the Blackguard had become concerned, and by the time the snow began after the third hour he’d reached the conclusion that he’d almost definitely allowed his maybe-friend and only hope for finalizing his quest for revenge to wander into some form of trap. Then, when the snow began to cluster into rapidly swelling mounds, it occurred to him that she had left most of her heavy gear behind. While he wasn’t exactly an expert in the area he felt safe in assuming that a body as small as hers would surely freeze solid much faster than his own bulk, especially with either additional supplies or a companion nearby to offer aid. Fuck. This was probably his fault.

When the second small group of the huddled greenish folk wandered into the ring of light cast by the camp’s fire he approached them to ask if they’d seen her. Once he’d assured them that no, he wasn’t going to kill them, they frantically told him in the tense hurried tone of beings who are very very cold that a mage had come to their town and wreaked havoc on their celebrations, as this night was the eve of the goblin holiday Krrish-Mash. They said additionally that their village had been turned to burning ruins as they had attempted to cast the mage out by their own means, which he took as an indication that there would be no remaining shelter for Cait to wait the storm out there. They expressed the disbelief and shock they had felt when suddenly Cait had appeared to save them, blasted the mage a few times, and then sent them in the direction of her camp while she made sure the fires were extinguished and all of the goblins had escaped their huts in good condition.

"A Krrish-Mash miracle!!"

Dorn grunted an attempt at thanks, and trudged through the gathering snow to Neera who was frantically trying to manifest something helpful to use as a tent for sheltering the rapidly growing party from the rapidly increasing gales and flurries of the blizzard. He scanned what was visible of the horizon over the trees, and spotted a ridge just slightly more northwest than the direction Cait had headed in, and it was much closer than the formerly visible plume of smoke.

“ELF!”

Neera started and turned as Dorn shouted at her over the roar of the lashing winds, but when she saw it was only him she drooped and gestured into the wind, “HALF-ELF!!! WHAT THE HECK IS UP WITH THIS? IT WAS CLEAR A FEW HOURS AGO! DID ANYONE TELL YOU THERE WAS GOING TO BE A BLIZZARD?” She turned back to the ball of light she was attempting to manifest in her hands, though the look of hope on her face rapidly turned to annoyance as she summoned forth yet another delicate blown glass figure of a horse.

He shook his head, “THIS IS FOOLISHNESS. THERE IS A RIDGE NORTHWEST OF HERE. TAKE THESE CREATURES THERE AND FIND SHELTER. I WILL GO FIND WHAT OUR ESTEEMED LEADER HAS GOTTEN HERSELF INTO.”

A few of the goblins had brought sledges which carried what few of their earthly possessions they’d managed to salvage as they fled the attack and subsequent burning of their homes. After awkwardly requesting permission, Dorn removed most of the heavy plate armor, as it would not be particularly useful in a cross-country trek through a blizzard which would likely only serve to rust it. He also left behind the bulk of his pack, keeping only the fur-lined cloak he kept stored in case of extreme cold as well as some rations and basic supplies. He donned the cloak, and saw the rest of the groups’ things loaded onto the sledges which Neera and the Goblins began laboriously dragging over the knee-deep drifts and in the direction of the hopefully nearby shelter. He nodded at the woman, and she smiled and waved cheerfully back. Cait often looked upon the newest addition to their group as a liability that was to be managed, but Dorn had developed a begrudging respect for the socially inept creature. Enough respect, at least, to believe her capable of a task as simple as finding shelter in a storm without him there to hold her hand.

Once the ragtag group of refugees had retreated from sight, he turned and headed west towards where the settlement was said to have been. If she had died he’d either never forgive her or never stop blaming himself, and neither of those options was particularly appealing. She likely would have requested he accompany her if he hadn’t expressed his distaste with the choice he had known she’d make from the moment he’d spotted the two children curled at the side of the road. Still, if she were a better leader she would have commanded him to assist her regardless of his judgment, and her own lack of planning was no responsibility of his. 

After thirty minutes or so’s dredging through the rapidly accumulating snow he spotted her, a slight figure of frosted black against the raging white of the storm. A confusing mix of emotions swelled within his chest, so as he opened his mouth to call out for her he chose one of them at random.

“YOUR SOFTHEARTED ALTRUISM IS GOING TO GET US ALL KILLED!”

Cait looked up sharply from the compass she’d been focusing on for the past hour as she’d hiked the icy pass slowly down from where the settlement had once been. Dorn's booming voice cut directly through to her despite the harsh tearing sounds of the wind and the muffling rough woolen blanket she’d pilfered from the wreckage of the village. The blanket wasn’t much against the sudden bitter cold, but it kept the ice from her face when she kept it clutched around her shoulders and neck like a make-shift shawl, so it was at least better than nothing. She was nearly frozen to the bone, but there was a small cave she’d noted not much farther down the rise of the ridge which she had made her goal. If she hadn’t been so painfully stiff and short of breath she would have groaned at the sight of the hulking, fur-cloaked figure that was currently barreling towards her.

_Really, Dorn?_

Despite her suffering the familiar shifting wad of uncertain emotion swelled up in her when she recognized his familiar lumbering form through the slashes of bright ice which interrupted her field of vision. There had been a moment when the storm had really gotten going when she’d hoped idly that he might worry about her enough to come try to save her (so she could make fun of him for it). She had brushed that hope aside as yet another frivolous fantasy only to have it come true. Despite her frozen features the corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk at the thought. Oh, she was going to absolutely let him _have it..._ just as soon as she wasn’t literally dying of cold.

She waved at him stiffly to confirm she’d heard him, and pointed in the direction she’d been walking emphatically before shouting weakly through the wad of reeking blanket knotted at her chin, “THERE’S A CAVE THIS WAY!”

She couldn’t tell if he’d heard her as his movement didn’t slow or alter in any way. She rolled her eyes and scraped the accumulating frost from the face of the compass and pushed away the sharp, unknowably horrific pain of extreme cold before continuing her slow trudge forward towards the currently invisible face of the shallow cliff wall. 

Suddenly Dorn was there, partially blocking some of the wind which was pushing forcefully against her left side. He followed her wordlessly as they both leaned against the wind. When she eventually slipped on her numbed feet and lost her footing he scooped her up despite her shouted protests and began carrying her draped over his elbows like an errant sheep. His grip on her tightened as he registered the severity of her painful, cold-induced convulsions, and he looked down at her questioningly as he awaited instructions. She indicated the direction of a small cluster of trees they could just make out in the distance, and he carried her until at long last they stumbled into the damp confines of a small cave. He dumped her unceremoniously just inside the cave entrance and hurried to the back of the space. He cleared a patch of flat stone and began hastily laying out his cloak and unrolling Cait's bedroll.

He grunted over his shoulder, "Strip."

She couldn’t stop the convulsions, so she resigned herself to the stutter they would cause before attempting a humorous, "Y-y-y-you gotta buy a girl d-d-dinner, first!"

He didn't laugh like she'd wanted, but moved instead to pull her away from the harsh winds which cut into the cave's entrance from outside. Without meeting her gaze he began unlacing her rapidly icing outer layer of clothes.

"Fuss at your chastity another time, Thief, I'll not have you freezing to death on my watch."

She swatted his hands away and undid her own laces with trembling fingers.

"Y-you sh-should build a f-fire."

Dorn grunted an agreement and disappeared briefly back into the blizzard to the small grove of trees they'd passed a moment before. He arrived back with an array of kindling and a few fractured, half-rotted logs in tow, which he wordlessly began assembling into the desired format. In no time at all he had a small but respectable fire going in the center of the cramped cave, and Cait herself had slid--nude save for a pair of knickers she felt uncomfortable without-- into the frozen but at least mostly dry comfort of scratchy wool and fur. She kept shaking despite the coverings, and her body wasn't seeming to generate enough heat to even melt the meager amount of ice which clustered on the tips of the thick fur lining of the cloak. She curled tightly into herself, rubbing her hands on her arms in the frantic hope of generating some warmth, but to no avail.

"D-dorn, I th-think--"

"I know."

She forced her stiffening eyelids open and saw that the half-orc was methodically stripping his own stiffened coverings. He piled the heavier parts of his apparel haphazardly atop one of the rock flats, and then pulled his softer layer away to reveal the thick bands of muscles which rippled across his torso under a seemingly endless sea purply black skin. Ridged patterns of scars were just visible in the contrast granted by the flickering firelight, and some exhausted corner of Cait's mind longed to run her fingers along them. She made an appreciative sound in the back of her throat before she could stop herself, and didn't rush to apologize when she noticed Dorn's eyebrow quirk as he registered the sound. She was probably gonna die from the fucking cold anyway, so why the hells would she?

Nothing she had ever experienced had hurt with this sharp, burning intensity. She had been stabbed, shot, burned, electrocuted, scratched, and bitten by creatures larger than Dorn but nothing, _nothing_ had prepared her for cold of this intensity.

Without her having registered his movement Dorn’s huge bulk was suddenly pushing under the covers next to her and tugging her into his firm, and more importantly _warm_ embrace. It occurred to her she hadn't ever seen the mountainous creature move this frantically. Was he worried about her? That seemed unlikely, though he _was_ practically bear hugging her. 

Without warning her nerve endings were all back open for business and her body was ignited with a sharp white light of blissful heated pain. She hissed as she simultaneously recoiled from and instinctively burrowed closer to his heat. He pressed her firmly into him and she complied, gripping tightly to his ribcage with sharp fingertips and pressing her entire form as firmly into his as she could. So great was her excitement at her new climate that all concept of controlling her communications slipped from her mind like greased water from a duck's wing.

"Oh, fuck, holy shit, Dorn, you feel amazing!"

She didn't really notice the hungry, desperate sounds she was making until she noticed the change in his breathing. The realization which followed was that Dorn was growling. That didn't seem good. Cautiously she stilled herself and raised her gaze to his to find it as stoic and black as usual, but his nostrils _were_ flared slightly. She guessed she'd overstepped a boundary.

"S-s-sorry I'm just f-fuckin cold."

He made no reply, but one of his huge hands moved from where it had been pressed to her upper back to cup the back of her head and push it back to the hollow of his throat where it had been before she'd moved to look at him.

_Huh, so maybe it's fine._

Cait realized belatedly that she was fading in and out of consciousness (and likely had been for much of the past hour). When she _could_ focus her main thoughts were primarily in relation to the heat source she was currently tied to. The warmth radiating from Dorn’s surprisingly supple skin was immense, and the unyielding embrace he'd locked her into granted no room for movement, which she struggled against slightly as her exhaustion-addled mind attempted to catch up with the sudden developments of the past few minutes.

She was so thoroughly wrapped in both her companion and the blankets that only the back of her neck was still exposed to the air, and that was kept warm by the heat of the fire at her back. When had he rolled her to face this side? Her eyelids fought against the pleasant darkness cast across them by her coverings, and at long last the blissful comfort shushed the tense fear that had kept her moving through that last hour. Shortly she found herself limp and warmed through, and as she listened to the comforting repetition of Dorn's ox-strong pulse she drifted off to true sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Warm._

When Cait awoke it was still dark, though she couldn't tell initially if that was because of her Dorn-shaped enclosure, the blanket she had at some point pulled over her head, the time of day, or the storm which she could hear as it continued to whistle outside. She attempted to move, but her joints were stiff and she was still being pinned to the half-orc's front by the vice like grip of his arms. He was snoring (or possibly purring as her hearing was also muffled by the blanket over her head), but the slight cramp at the base of her back demanded that he loosen his hold so she could stretch it away. She nudged him slightly with her fingertips and spoke in a low voice so as not to startle him.

"Dorn, my back’s cramping, you've gotta let me move."

His breathing didn't change, but as soon as she'd spoken one of his large hands slid down the bare skin of her back to the base, where he began tenderly massaging the muscles on either side of her spine with his thumb and forefinger. She let out a little moan and pushed reflexively back into his touch as he immediately found and obliterated the knot in question. She shivered at his touch on her bare skin, having forgotten that she was basically naked beneath the blankets. The sound he was making-- she'd decided it was a kind of grumbling hum-- intensified for a moment before he seemed to cut it off, and the movement of his hand at her back stopped. She almost protested, but stopped herself, embarrassed by her desire for that touch to continue. What was it he’d said the last time she’d tried to flirt with him? Something along the lines of “I am no barmaid to be wooed,” she thought. In the darkness granted by the stifling wool she had a little more courage than she usually might have, and she cleared her throat which had suddenly grown tight for some reason. She tried for a light tone, in case she was misreading the situation.

"You're either happy I'm alive or you're _really_ enjoying being naked in here with me."

The hum returned in a short burst under where her cheek was pressed to his clavicle, and she smiled to herself sweetly.

"Yes," he grunted vaguely.

She shifted slightly, and he loosened his grip to allow her to push herself up enough to break the surface of the coverings which were rapidly heating her past her preferred level of comfort. She pulled in a deep breath of the cool, fresh air and wiggled one of her arms out from under the coverings to lay over the blanket and help her temperature even out. She looked at the fingers on her freed hand, wiggled them, and then tested the ones pressed to Dorn’s chest. He watched her passively as she tested each of her extremities and found them to all be functioning, if a bit stiff. She craned her neck around and looked out at the storm where it continued outside of the cave’s shelter.

“I didn’t think it’d keep going this fuckin’ long, gods.”

Dorn’s eyebrows furrowed, and when she turned back to him he raised one in question.

“Did they tell you about the mage?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, “Okay, so I got there and he was tearing the place apart. I’m guessing they had picked up something of his and he was looking for it--I couldn’t find anything that looked important when I looked around after-- or maybe he was just causing trouble ‘cause he didn’t care about them.”

Dorn inclined his head, “As we would have done if they had stolen from us...”

Cait shot him a dirty look and continued, “ANYWAY, I wish the kids had mentioned the whole ass MAGE they were sending me to, but he wasn’t as much hot shit as he thought he was. So, it wasn’t a big deal it just burned up all my magic and when it came time to head back I was kinda fucked by the storm so… Here we are. I should’ve just made you come with me, probably.”

He snorted a sharp laugh, “I was thinking the same on my way here. You didn’t explain the blizzard.”

She glanced away shirtily, and grumbled, “Oh, right. He… uh... had a wand on him that I’d picked off of him while we were grappling at one point, and I _thought_ it was just a wand of frost, but then I activated it and--” She gestured emphatically behind herself, “Here we are!”

There was a beat where the only sound in the cave were those of the wind and the crackling fire during which Cait was mildly afraid the blackguard was about to start yelling at her, but then suddenly his chest began to shake and a deep, rich laugh broke from him.

“You! You did that??” He indicated the storm with a nod of his head as he rolled back and away from her to cover his eyes with one of his hands as he laughed uproariously. 

“Hey! It worked! He was so upset about me activating the spell he dropped his guard and I knocked him down! I was running out of steam and trying to improvise! You wouldn’t have even been able to _use_ the thing, you would’ve just hit him with it and gotten yourself blown up!”

Dorn rolled back to face her, and leaned in suddenly to press a kiss to her lips-- fondly, if a bit awkwardly as she was neither expecting the move nor the complication of maneuvering around his blunted tusks. _Oh._ Her rambled defenses silenced as she gaped at him in shock. He tucked her sleep-and-wind tousled hair behind her ears and his laughter died as he seemed to realize what he’d just done. Before he could withdraw himself she lunged forward to kiss him in a hasty, sloppy clash of lips and teeth, an action the half-orc seemed to approve of as he moaned appreciatively and used the arm which had been trapped underneath her slight weight since he’d joined her on the makeshift bed to pull her flush to him once again. She moaned and wrapped her limbs around him to tie him to her, and his hand moved from her hair to her hips where he held her firmly in place as he pressed himself tightly against her core. He pulled her farther up so he could bury his face in her throat where he nuzzled her before clutching her tightly to him in a suffocating hug.

“You troublesome little witch, what am I going to do with you?”

The relief in his voice made the statement crack slightly at the end, and Cait grinned against his dark hair as she understood its implications. Belatedly she realized that the time she had offered her interest to him only to have him reject her outright had been in response to a question that hadn't seemed odd at the time (they _were_ both _fairly_ intoxicated), but now as it replayed in her mind she realized something that should have been obvious even to her most inebriated self.

“Dorn, why did you ask me if I was interested in anyone in particular the other night if you were just gonna shoot me down?”

Her voice sounded oddly calm under her guise of a teasing jest, and through that observation she became aware that her blood had seemed to still. The vulnerability which the question opened her to had additionally made her intensely nauseated as the anxiety of the situation overcame her. The anxiety itself was silly, since the object of her affections was currently pretending not to be blushing as he struggled to catch up with the situation _he_ had caused, so she dismissed it as useless and focused on the half-orc at hand. She just wanted an answer, just wanted to make sure he’d been paying attention and wasn’t just leaping off of a cliff behind her as he was often prone to doing. Dorn grumbled and sighed against her throat before pulling back just far enough to open his mouth and tenderly bite the band of muscle at her neck between blunt teeth like a dog mouthing a favorite bone. His tusks dug deeply into her jugular, and the sharp warning of the feeling made her still instinctively. It was feral, possessive, brutish, clearly an effort to avoid a verbal response, and also really fucking hot so she communicated her feelings on the subject with a loud, low moan and began pressing her hips heatedly against his bulky form.

Dorn stilled her with a firm grasp of the hand at her hip and detached from the corded and now slightly bruised muscle at her throat. When he spoke his voice was a husky, forced rumble that sent a shiver of lightning down her spine, “Because I wanted you to say the monk's wretched name and I could leave you to him and rid myself of this,” he released his grip on her hip and roughly shoved his freed hand between her legs to press against her soaked scrap of thin fabric covering her mound with an appreciative groan, “fucking _irritation_ of a curse that is my regard for you.”

Cait’s mildly started gasp quickly shifted into a sharp giggle, “Rasaad??”

Dorn growled at her use of the name, and shrugged, “You get along.”

She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows as she considered the suggestion, “I mean, I could do worse.”

Dorn half snarled, half laughed at her answer, but the movement of his fingers between her legs became entirely too distracting for either of them to be expected to continue conversing. He watched her face as she began to flush and squirm under his ministrations, and she did her best to match his gaze but it was difficult when he kept ever so slowly teasing _that particular place._

"Just take them off!"

Dorn complied with a twist of his wrist, spiriting the surely shredded garment off into the void of the hopelessly tangled blankets. They were bundled too closely to allow much freedom of movement, but the half-orc didn’t seem to be overly concerned about that as he unceremoniously returned his hand to its previous position, only now with the freedom to dip between the soft fuzz of her outer lips to graze his calloused finger against the swollen wet nub which hid there. Cait gasped and tightened her leg where it was hooked over Dorn’s meaty thigh, causing him to roll forward and over her and consequently loosening the blankets as his weight was removed from the furthest edge. She was throbbing and desperate for him and didn’t particularly care how clear she made that, so as soon as the coverings were free she kicked them off entirely before grabbing his face roughly in both of her hands and guiding it down to her own.

They stayed gripped together like that for some time, his hand idly teasing her as she panted and moaned into his mouth. They tussled back and forth on occasion, her intermittently trying to strip him of his remaining coverings so she could take him in hand like she’d been fantasizing about for months, or him trying to guide her crooked legs open to grant him more access. Each time he attempted to open her further she would stalwartly keep her legs clamped tight to either side of his hips, and in return each time she reached for his fly he would capture her hand with his only free one and pin it by her head without comment. It was some kind of twisted game of patience, and Cait didn’t have the brainpower at the moment for any amount of thought past the obsessive need to make him come apart with her hands as he was _clearly_ attempting to do for her. Their kissing became more heated with each failed attempt to progress, and soon they were writhing against each other and making inhuman sounds of mutual frustration.

She began making small iritated sounds, and finally pulled back from their kiss to bark, “You’re not the only one who’s been lusting forever, so you’d better damn well give me SOME form of access or I’m going to have to KILL YOU!” 

Dorn chuckled and used his mouth’s newfound freedom to kiss down her throat to her small breasts, and Cait realized she had lost the game. She realized also, however, that she did not in fact _care_ so long as he didn’t stop the attentions he was now lavishing onto her sensitive tits. He latched on to one of her small, pert nipples and began to scrape the rough flat of his tongue along its straining tip, sucking hard until she was moaning the amount he deemed “enough,” and then switched to the other to keep up the routine. Her hips were bucking against the hand that was still doing no more than gently circling her throbbing clit, though the unwavering strength of his grip on her meant that she could barely press up into him to encourage his movements. She continued to alternate between moans and frustrated growls until suddenly with no warning he pushed one of his fingers into her canal.

The invasion was blissful, the filling of a cavity she didn’t think she’d been aware of until that exact moment. She had fallen to sleep sweaty many a night with her own fingers pressed to her clit, but as far as _penetration_ went she’d never had a lot of interest. Dorn’s finger changed that in a matter of moments, and suddenly there was a jumble of nonsensical praises falling from her lips as her thighs clamped tighter to his hips and she began to spastically rut against him.

“More! Oh, fuck, Dorn, more, please!”

He chuckled again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body from the swollen nipple he was still torturing, and suddenly she was cumming. White light blocked her vision and she clung to him blindly. For a moment it felt like he was withdrawing, but his finger had no sooner exited her than he was plunging two back into her forcefully. He released her breast with a wet _pop_ and looked down at her through pupils blown out by lust. His lips were swollen, and his muscles bulged and rippled with his movements as they grew more and more rapid. He leered down at her, and his sharp tusks glinted in the guttering firelight. Some deep, instinctual part of her shuddered with a pleasant fear of the predator she had allowed herself to be spread naked and vulnerable beneath. He must have seen and approved of the reaction because his movements changed as his fingers twisted and hooked within her, bending to push against some soft, vulnerable piece of her that made her mind blank and her eyes roll back into her head.

She _thought_ what had happened before was cumming. That was the extent of what she had ever felt on her own, just a building of pressure leading to a short sharp burst of light followed by numbness. The feelings Dorn was coaxing from her were decidedly not numb. Her legs finally fell open on either side of her, and with a roar of triumph Dorn adjusted his angle and began to pound into her with a force that should have hurt. Should have hurt, but didn’t, because that building singing pleasure inside of her was growing louder and stronger than it had ever been before. As Dorn lunged down to bite the join of her neck and shoulder savagely she began to convulse. She shouted his name into the growing darkness of the cave through a hoarse throat.

He crowed with pride and growled, “There it is! Yes, spend for me, my lady. Again!”

The barked order was useless, because without effort or permission the cycle began again. Her vision was blurred to such an extent that she wasn’t even sure her eyes were open, and her body had completely given itself over to this immense, searing pleasure. Her hands shot up to claw at the dark flesh of his chest, simultaneously pushing him away and pulling him closer as she sobbed her release into the night.

Eventually his movements eased, and he withdrew his questing fingers from her despite the clenching muscles of her insides begging him to stay. Cait pushed herself up onto an elbow while the half-orc leaned back to admire the mess he had made between her legs, and before he could react she’d slid her small hand under his waistband and taken the large, firm evidence of his investment in their interaction in hand. He sucked in a huge hissing lungful of air as her fist closed around as much of him as she could grip. His eyes shot to hers with a brutal, clear expression of demanding need which she correctly identified as consent. She began scrabbling at the ties of his breeches, and with his help and a small struggle they pushed them down his thighs enough that he could kick them off in a not entirely undignified manner.

She shifted up to her knees and leaned into his chest as she wrapped both of her hands around him and began to rub him in firm, smooth strokes. He began making that deep rumbling purr sound in his chest again and reached for her hair. He took a fistful of the tangled red mane that had escaped her braid and tugged her up so that he could kiss and bite at her swollen lips. He pressed a hand to her lower back, making her bow backwards as he pressed down on her from above with the force of his affectionate gnawing at her lips. She let him control the kiss as she closed her eyes and felt the smooth, tender flesh beneath her palms.

She couldn’t close either hand fully around him, and based on descriptions of the act she’d read that either meant his dick was unusually large or her hands were even smaller than she’d previously been aware. She twisted the hand positioned closer to the tip of him up experimentally and then repeated the action when her lover groaned pleasurably against her lips. She broke the kiss and pushed him back until he straightened enough that she could explore his neck and shoulders with biting kisses that earned repeated hissing moans from Dorn. She ogled him unashamedly, and watched the progress of her hands as they twisted up and down the dark length of him. Her mouth watered and she returned to kissing his scarred flesh as he whimpered and leaned into her ministrations. The hand tangled into her hair remained, but had loosened its hold on her as she explored until her questing mouth began to travel down the heaving flat expanse of his abdomen. With a growl he tightened his grip on her and threw her back to the cave’s floor. She laughed a musical little laugh at his fierce expression, and before she could so much as feign resistance he’d lunged down to grip her hips and had flipped her over as if she weighed no more than a piece of parchment.

She gasped and scrambled up onto all fours only to have his huge right hand push down between her shoulder blades to press the front half of her torso onto the ground where he held her firmly in place. He bent over her from behind, and she released a long guttural moan at the feeling of his cock grazing along the pulsing length of her slit as he molded his body to her back. She pushed her hips back into him, and that earned her both an approving groan and a sharp smack on her right buttocks. She cried out and bucked even harder back against him, and this time he bit into the soft flesh at the bend of her shoulder and pushed his arms under her belly to drag his sharp nails down her flesh, tearing ten red-hot stripes of pleasure across her convulsing abdomen before he shoved one of his hands between her thighs. She was now sobbing his name uncontrollably as she begged for more, and when he didn’t immediately give it to her began to rut more forcefully, trying in vain to gain friction where she needed it as he kept her pinned and fully powerless trapped between his immovable grip on her cunt and push of his hips. The more she struggled the harder the bite on her shoulder he maintained with teeth and tusks grew, until the blinding pleasure of it and the feeling of his cock throbbing between her folds had monopolized her mind and she quite simply shorted out, her body giving up the fight and collapsing limp and malleable beneath him.

He straightened and lined himself up before pushing into her without hesitation or ceremony. The hand he’d left trapped between her muscular clamped thighs tapped her clit in a frantic staccato, and when her legs began to tremble and threaten to give out beneath her he used his other hand to force her farther up, and back as he slammed into her with a brutal, blinding force. She reached out and wadded the fur-lined cloak beneath her until she had something vaguely resembling a pillow to hold and bite onto as her much larger companion pounded into her too fast and hard for her to be able to reciprocate. That singing light was beginning to fill her again, and she felt her internal muscles clamp and pull around his cock as she began to spiral into the abyss he had opened up beneath her. He shouted her name, and as she fell he joined her. His fingernails cut into the supple flesh of her hips, and her name tumbled from his lips with a thousand pleading praises and grunted sounds of encouragement as he throbbed and spilled deep inside her.

She weakly pushed the wad of fur out from under her chin and smoothed it out as she slid to fully rest on her front, panting and whimpering as the movement caused Dorn’s softening cock to slowly withdraw from her still-clenching hole. The half-orc bent down above her, and kissed a gentle line along her spine and up until he was laying flat against her back. He slid both arms under her stomach and rolled them onto their sides facing the cold remains of the fire.

Cait muttered a string of magical words and gestured at the smoldering pile of ash, which relit and swelled despite the lack of physical fuel. Dorn reached over her and tossed one of the spare logs he’d left by their bedroll before joining her onto the magical flame, and it singed and lit as they both watched it through drooping eyelids. He seemed tense, but he cautiously kissed her bare shoulder and pulled the coarse wool blanket back over them without comment.

She craned her neck back to look at him, and found his face as blank and unyielding as usual. He met her gaze and twisted his lips up into a small, uncharacteristically timid smile. She flushed and returned it, so he bent down and gently pressed his lips to hers. The movement jostled her in such a way that she felt the dull ache of her now empty cunt, and whimpered softly against his lips. He pulled back and eyed her with mild concern.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head adamantly, “Nope, perfect. It was perfect. Well, I haven’t got much to compare it to, but I’d say for rushed post-near-death-experience-cave-sex that was just fine.”

He smiled more broadly, clearly pleased with himself as he pulled her tight against his chest and buried his face against the dark bruise he’d left across her shoulder. It ached, so she moaned again softly which in turn inspired him to press his still semi-hard cock firmly against her back. She weakly pushed back against the pressure, and he groaned before reaching down to adjust himself so he could slide effortlessly back inside her. Her body hummed at the stretched feeling of completion, and the purring rumble that emitted from her partner clearly communicated his own pleasure at their rejoining. He held her tightly and together they rocked gently for several minutes before climaxing again with a flurry of gasping moans shared softly between lingering, slow kisses.

They rested for a time, intermittently waking to exchange heated touches or check the progress of the storm outside. Dorn caught her up on the progression of events with Neera and the goblins, and Cait thanked him begrudgingly for coming to look for her even if, as she noted, she would have been perfectly fine on her own. As dawn broke, the magically induced storm abated, and the pair dressed and cleaned themselves up as best as they could with the supplies at hand. Cait smoothed her braid back into place, and sighed to herself as she thought of Candlekeep and the plumbing and hot water she had taken for granted throughout her youth.

“I would literally commit murder for a hot bath.”

Dorn laughed as he swung his bag over his shoulder, “Don’t promise me a show you don’t plan on performing, Thief.”

She gave him an exasperated glare as she finished tying her boots, “Well luckily I’m not short on ways to coat myself in gore these days, so you can keep your hopes up that one day I find such an opportunity near a tub and a source of running water.”

The half-orc snorted a laugh and handed her her battered leather bag, which she promptly slid over her head and settled at her hip. She quickly checked their surroundings for anything they might have left behind before planting her hands on her hips and looking up at him expectantly.

“Ready to go?”

He began to nod, but stopped himself and leaned forward to kiss her once, firmly and passionately as he realized he hadn’t since they’d gotten up. When he was well satisfied he pulled back and grunted a brief, “Yes.”

She blinked in surprise, but her eyes softened as she looked up at him. She tucked the thumb of her left hand under the strap of her bag and blushed a muted pink.

“Maybe we’re gonna need to stop at an inn soon.”

He nodded once, and grunted out another blunt, “Yes,” before falling into step beside her as she headed out the cave’s entrance into the rapidly melting drifts of snow to find Neera and her group of charges.

Cait sighed and took Dorn’s hand as they waded through the piles of muck, “I REALLY hope she hasn’t convinced them she’s their new god like Adoy did.”

Dorn laughed uproariously, “I don’t think I’ve ever disagreed with you more!”


End file.
